Page 60 of His Secret Merger

The cool night air hit me the second I stepped outside, sharp against my skin, cutting through the restless heat humming in my veins. City lights glittered across the windshield of my car, their reflections rippling over the hood as I hit the unlock button.

My phone buzzed in my jacket pocket. I pulled it out, thumb swiping across the screen.

Juliette: Are you free tonight?

For a second, I just stood there on the sidewalk, the sounds of traffic in the distance, the gallery behind me like a ghost. My heart thudded hard in my chest, a beat too fast, too loud, as I stared at those four words.

No more running. No more hiding.

I slid into the driver’s seat, the leather cool beneath my hands as I gripped the wheel. My throat was tight, every breath sharp, but under the nerves was something steadier—something that had been missing for weeks.

Resolve.

I fired up the engine, the low growl breaking the quiet, and pulled out of the lot.

The city blurred past in streaks of gold and red, headlights slicing through the dark. I watched the road unfold in front of me, every turn pulling me closer to the one place I needed to be.

It was time. Time to tell her the truth. Time to stop pretending I could hold this all in and still have her.

Whatever came next—the fallout, the forgiveness, or the end—it was all waiting for me at that guest house.

I tightened my grip on the wheel as the streets narrowed, Juliette’s neighborhood pulling into view, the familiar ache of wanting her wrapping around my ribs.

My future was hanging in the balance. And for the first time in a long time, I was ready to face it.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Juliette

The soft knock on the door came just as I wrapped my hands tighter around the mug of green tea, the steam curling up to kiss my face. My fingers trembled slightly—not from the heat, but from the bone-deep exhaustion I hadn’t been able to shake since the doctor’s office.

I padded barefoot to the door, robe knotted loosely at my waist, hair half-tamed from the messy knot I’d thrown it into earlier. When I opened the door, there he was.

Damian.

His dark jacket caught the glow of the porch light, his hands tucked into his pockets, that familiar, steady gaze sweeping over me—not with heat, not yet, but with something gentler. Something that made my chest squeeze in ways I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

“Hey,” I murmured, voice smaller than I wanted. “Thanks for coming over.”

He stepped inside without hesitation, his presence filling the space even though he didn’t say a word right away. I closed the door softly behind him, breathing in the faint trace of his cologne, something warm and woodsy that settled low in my stomach.

“I was making tea,” I offered, lifting the mug slightly as if that explained anything. “Green tea. I’m—” I hesitated, feeling suddenly foolish, “—trying to cleanse my body, or something. A reset, I guess.”

His mouth quirked at the corner, just the faintest tug of amusement, but there was no teasing in his eyes. “I could use a cleanse, too,” he murmured, his voice rough around the edges. “Tea sounds good.”

For a beat, I just stood there, blinking at him, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. But he only held my gaze, quiet and steady, and something inside me cracked a little.

I moved toward the kitchen, my bare feet whispering over the floor as I poured him a mug. My hands still shook, but at least they were busy. When I turned, he was already settled on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, watching me with an intensity that made the air feel charged.

I crossed the room, handing him the mug, and when our fingers brushed, the contact jolted through me like a live wire. I sank down beside him, tucking my legs under me, drawing the robe tighter around my body as if it could hold me together.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the faint ticking of the antique clock on the wall, the quiet sips of tea, the thud of my heartbeat in my ears.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” I whispered, voice barely above the hush of the room.

Damian turned his head slightly, the lamplight catching in the sharp cut of his jaw. “You asked.”

And just like that, something in my chest splintered.

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